Black Coffee
by SilverCrystal029
Summary: Just filling in a moment at the end of Rogue Recruit. Logan takes Rogue aside from the chaos and makes her black coffee. one shot


Her teeth chattered as the beautiful, white haired woman and the scary, orange man took Rogue's classmate from her arms. It had been a really weird day, one that she wouldn't forget. Ever. She'd blasted her principal/adoptive mother off a cliff in a snowstorm, and that_ still_ might not have been the weirdest yet. As she watched them lay Scott down to examine the bruise on his head, she settled in a seat on the plane's floor.

She'd never been on a flight like this before. She had some serious questions about that weird school, the one Mystique hated so much. But, it was too cold for questions. Too cold for anything. Scott moaned and she frowned, sneaking a peek at him while the woman and the man whispered. Scott would chime in intermittently, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Well," Ororo began. "Are you going to ask her?" Logan looked between her and the boy on the ground.

"Good thinking with the optic blast so we could find ya, Scott. Just like I taught ya." He praised, still trying to decide how he felt on the youth himself.

"Her idea," Scott half mumbled. Both Ororo and Logan looked at each other, impressed.

_"Really_?" The weather goddess pressed. Smiling dopily, Scott nodded despite his migraine.

"Yeah, she took my power and fought Mystique off, too. Dragged me away from her..." Ororo smiled slyly, hearing that the girl was tactically sound and had protected him would soften Logan up a bit. He tossed a look back to the freezing mutant in their cabin. He eyed her for a moment before standing. She swallowed hard when he rose and approached her. She knew Mystique had lied to her but he was still intimidating on his own.

She cowered as he looked down at her, his face impassive. "What's your allegiance, kid? Us or _them_?" She stole another glance at Scott and Ororo.

"If Ah don't say you... Will Ah get thrown off this jet?" He bit back a chuckle.

"Nope, not our style." He shut a door beside them. "We either earned your trust by now, or we haven't." She shivered, her mind clearly working as she weighed the little options she had.

"You." She answered pretty quickly. He smirked at that.

"Welcome to the X-Men."

* * *

She helped the two teachers bring Scott in, his concussion making him a bit woozy on his feet. She flushed immediately when Jean, Evan, Kitty, and Kurt were all standing anxiously at the door. She must've looked spooked, because the gruff man placed a reassuring hand on the back of her drenched trench coat. It was the shortest member of the group who spoke first. "Oh my_ gosh!"_

_"Vhoa_-" Kurt followed as Jean turned bright red, her eyes wide in shock.

"I-"

"She's with _us_, now." Logan filled in wearily, eyeing them just incase they wanted to give her trouble. She was hesitant, had some real obvious scars from whatever Mystique had put her through and he didn't want her chased away. "She saved Shades over here, and figured out Mystique was your principal." This earned a glare from Ororo, they were supposed to discuss it all together.

"WHAT!" Kitty screeched, making Rogue plug an ear.

"Vhoa, vait. Mystique? I need to sit down..." Kurt said, holding his head.

"Totally _not_ cool, man." The skate kid chimed in, making Logan roll his eyes.

"A little space please, so he can get this looked at." He growled, hating the cluster by the door. He could already tell their new visitor did not like crowds, she hadn't even had a chance to introduce herself. Jean graciously took Scott off the man's arm, eyeing the shorter girl beside him curiously. Jean and Kitty had really similar sense of styles. There was nobody at the institute quite like Rogue.

"Here, let me help you to the infirmary, I'm glad you're okay." Scott smiled despite the throbbing pain in his head. Even concussed, he looked completely head over heels for the telepath. Rogue bit the inside of her cheek, struggling to keep her face emotionless after spending such close quarters with him. Logan shoed everyone to the living room to wait while Ororo and Charles headed upstairs.

Then he noticed Rogue, dripping wet in her trench coat with a small duffel in her hands. She looks too frozen to move, her skin so colorless even Logan knows it's not her pasty makeup. He reaches out, waiting for consent to grab before he leads her towards a kitchen. Moving slowly, like she was a wild animal, he reached for the long jacket. "It's soaked, you'll get sick." He told her gently.

She didn't say a word as he took the coat and waded towards the cabinet. "Want some hot chocolate? You're still shiverin'." He offered, though he would make it and set it in front of the defrosting girl either way. He tossed a look back to the haunted, pensive look on her face. According to Charles' information about her, she had taken Mystique's memories with her touch. And nobody deserved those. Maybe worst of all was that she thought the woman cared about her, he was certain she only cared about herself.

All in all, nothing a fifteen or sixteen year old should go through. Yet, here they were. "Actually, you strike me as a black coffee drinker." This garnered a real smile from the southern girl. She looked at him sheepishly as the grabbed the roast.

"Ah _love_ black coffee." He grinned with his back to her as he set the coffee on to steep. He grabbed her jacket as he moved around the kitchen.

"Where's that accent from, again? Ain't from around here." He asked even though he remembered that recruitment mission. Her hands thawed slightly, she tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

"Caldecott... Caldecott, Mississippi." He nodded, disappearing for a moment before returning with some outrageous turquoise and orange flannel pajamas. Rogue was tickled by the gesture, but they were just not her style. "Oh, I-"

"Your clothes are soaked, Rogue. I keep sayin' you'll get sick. Kitty had some old PJ's to let you wear, they'll probably be high water, but they'll be dry." He told her gruffly, his eyes already shining with concern. He could tell it'd been a while since someone_ genuinely_ cared for her, cared for her beyond her mutations. She needed, maybe more than any of them, a positive role model in her life. Someone she could someday come to trust. Someone to care.

She accepts the clothes slowly as he turns to pour the coffee into a mug. "I'm... Sorry." She turned to him in surprise. "I know Mystique used me to scare you, make you think we were dangerous people..." She's sees the regret in his eyes, that Mystique had obviously hit a sore spot for him. "I'm sorry for that. I'm sure it was scary." She adjusted in her seat when he handed her the cup of coffee.

"You don't have anythin' to apologize for, trust me." She assured him. She placed her hands around the steaming cup and sighed.

"The pajamas?" He reminded with a grin. She stood, smiling sheepishly at him.

"Oh, right." She started to walk until she remembered she didn't know where anything was in the giant mansion. It was nothing like the Brotherhood house.

"Down the hall, to the left." She bowed her thank you and started off. "Stripes?" She paused, realizing he'd just already referred to her with a nickname. "You can_ take_ the coffee. Ya need to warm up, _remember_?" He held the cup out to her, amused as how shy and sheepish she was. She took it from him with a relieved grin.

"Thanks..."

"Logan. Now, go get changed and we'll have a house meeting. Get everyone caught up." He watched as she disappeared in the hall with her coffee, hands still shaking slightly. The girl sure wasn't a complainer, if he hadn't dragged her to the kitchen she would've frozen in place by the door. He wondered what Caldecott must've been like, or relying on Mystique in any capacity. The kid would never have to go through that again, of that he was already sure.


End file.
